Hi Again, I Want You
by Silent Sage
Summary: It takes nearly a decade, a video conference with several Ducks and a sorta-date for Charlie to see that maybe his feelings for Adam aren't as one-sided as he thought. He's just really oblivious, apparently.
1. Old Friends and Video Conferences

**Hi Again, I Want You**

**Disclaimer**: I own none of this. Disney owns it, but I like to borrow the characters for my own deviousness.

Chapter 1: **Old Friends and Video Conferences**

...

"Ducks fly together."

Charlie often told this to his JV hockey team before a game. He even instilled the saying in the minds of his history class, especially come group project time.

There was always that one group where a slacker would keep true to their 'slacking' ways, riding on the tailcoats of their higher achieving classmates. On the other end of the student-typecast spectrum, there was always the Type-A student dead-set on attending an Ivy League. They would rule the group with an iron fist that would make the Soviet Union proud while the slacker wrote their name and called it a day.

Sigh. Charlie was told it would happen while he was getting his bachelors in Education (and a double minor in History and Sport's Science) at Minnesota State by his professors. He was even told again by the more experienced teachers in the break room. The reality of the situation was a different matter entirely.

Well-to-do parents often sent (in some cases, dragged) their offspring to Eden Hall, and with it, varied expectations, which their children knowingly followed or completely disregarded.

Sitting in his apartment, pen in mouth, papers spread haphazardly on his coffee table, a schedule for the upcoming JV hockey season for the winter, the local news blaring on in the background, it wasn't hard for Charlie to get a little nostalgic about the past when the work was piling up and the itch for something familiar at the tip of his fingers.

On his laptop, littering his email account, instant chat, or heck, there were actual letters, from his various teammates about their random facets in life.

Some of them, not surprisingly, fulfilled the hockey dream.

The majority of them pursued different interests; their hockey memorabilia carefully stowed away to boast to their children for the future.

A ping on his computer disturbed Charlie from his particularly essay about Hitler and how he was 'a crazy dude that clearly had some mental issues and despite whatever Jeanne says about him needing a hug and a mirror, he definitely should've been gunned in the head. The League of Nations were so useless, how was it possible that they ignored him this long?'

Reaching over to his computer, Charlie grinned.

Adam Banks was online.

'Are you busy?'

Charlie disregarded the essay, placing it indifferently on the pile of ungraded papers. Settling himself in front of the laptop, he replied, 'Papers. I can ignore them for my favorite cake-eater. What's up?'

He saw the icon change to the symbol of a pencil writing, indicating Adam was typing a reply. Suddenly, the icon stopped. It changed into a pencil icon erasing.

Charlie patiently waited. He smiled as the icon changed into a pencil writing again. Adam was always one to carefully think before he spoke.

Finally, a line appeared. Four words. It almost felt like high school again.

"Can I call you?'

Immediately, Charlie typed: 'That shouldn't even be a question. Call!'

Not a minute later did he press 'Enter' to submit the message, did Charlie hear his phone ring. The phone's generic ring tone blasted from the table, drowning out the news.

He absently glanced at the TV while reaching for his phone in time to see a familiar name flash on the screen. There was an exhibition game with… Adam's team?

Oh. Charlie gripped his cell phone, staring at the neat block letters of 'Adam Banks' neatly flash across the screen.

Charlie grinned, leaning against the back of his couch, "Banksie."

"Hey Charlie."

Only two words and Charlie could feel the familiar feeling of a blush spread across his cheekbones. He was acting like the same teenagers that he often lectured to.

"So…" Charlie stated, curious at the late night phone call. Adam was still on the east coast, so it was probably after midnight by now.

"Um," Adam paused. Charlie curled against his couch, listening to the other breath nervously as he gained his bearing. Finally, he spoke, a hint of wary on the edge of his voice, "I'm gonna be in town this week."

"Yeah, I saw on TV." There was no malice in his voice, just the fizzy knowledge in his stomach of where the conversation was leading.

This was their routine. Adam would unexpectedly (not really, Charlie has his team schedule tucked neatly on his kitchen fridge) and they would do their small talk before a quiet settled and Adam would hesitantly ask him for lunch the day he arrived.

Of course, Charlie always agreed. He wryly grinned, despite the years and the interviews and magazines spreads, Adam was that quiet, young boy that captured Charlie's attention with his sincere determination and obvious love of hockey.

An exasperated chuckle, "Yeah, I didn't find out until a few days ago. I didn't know how to ask about…seeing you, y'know, since it's short notice. You're so busy teaching and all, so…sorry…but I was wondering if…"

There was a pause and Charlie grinned, knowing the other was probably worrying the knee of his pants with nervous fingers.

"It would really be great to catch up," Charlie interrupted. He quickly added, "If your schedule would allow."

The relieved sigh was noticeable. "Same. I have a dinner to go to with the big-wigs and some sponsors." Adam took a sharp intake of air before blurting, "You should come with me!"

Silence.

"I mean…would you like to come with me?" Charlie could almost see Adam turn pink.

"Hmm…and wear one of those penguin suits? Sorry Banksie, but that's your shtick."

"I know," Adam didn't relent, always the surprisingly stubborn one. "But it's free food and drinks, and we can leave early and go to my apartment, and- I dunno, drink a couple of beers and catch up."

Charlie 'hmmed' as he tucked his knees underneath his chin, wanting the other to sweat it out while he made his decision. "Well, I'm sorry to say-"

He heard Adam sigh.

"That all I heard was free food, so do tell," Charlie finished earnestly.

Charlie could hear Adam laugh through the phone, rich and deep, and suddenly, it was like they were back in high school, stowing away in one another's dorm rooms to study (he was horrible with math, but compensated with being a history buff, while it was reversed for Adam) or hide away from the rest of the Ducks for a marathon of Star Trek.

"Alright then, well, it'll be at-"

And Charlie lowered the volume to the TV and settled himself comfortably on his couch and listened patiently while his former teammate elaborated on his plans for his visit.

He probably only heard every third world that came out of Adam's mouth, focusing more on the man talking rather than the content of his words. He hadn't felt this giddy since the last time he had seen Adam, which was months ago. It was weird but exasperating at the same time every time they met up. Charlie had basically grown up with Adam.

Except, every time they met, it was like he was seeing Adam for the first time again.

Frankly, it was a little scary.

…

Video chat, another one of those 21st century marvels that are most needed when one is having an emotional crisis.

"Come on man! You've been crushing him for years!" Goldberg threw his hands in the air, mock glaring at Charlie through the computer screen.

"At least tell him." Julie smiled warmly. While pumping iron. Jesus, that girl was amazing with multitasking.

"Julie's right! Don't make this any gayer than this has to be."

"Goldberg." Julie paused from her lifting to glare at him.

"Uh…oh um, I don't mean gay like a bad way, but it kinda sucks that you're all sad and mopey and-an…"

Charlie rested his head on his palms, exasperated. He smiled fondly though while Goldberg continued ranting on how he was totally cool with him being gay and the gay population in general. Julie was staring into the monitor sympathetically at Charlie.

Charlie grinned. His teammates (_always_, there was no such thing as a former teammate in Charlie's mind) were amazing.

"Dude, just get it over with. He totally has the hots for you." Portman's husky voice interrupted Goldberg's tirade. "You see him every few months. I'm pretty sure you're the first person he contacts whenever he's coming to the state. You might as well be dating him at this point."

"Yeah, man! Cake eater always did a shitty job of pretending like he wasn't checking you out when we were in the lockers," Fulton pushed Portman out of the way, a maniac grin. "He's as see-through now as he was then."

"Get on your own laptop!"

"Yours is on right now!"

More pushing ensued.

Cracking a smile, Charlie shook his head. "He never made a move then or now. We're friends."

"Because he thinks you're straight!" Fulton gave a final push that sent Portman sprawled on the ground. He shot Charlie an annoyed look when Charlie gaped into the camera.

"W-what?"

"You dated Linda all through high school," Goldberg reminded. "And you lost contact with him when he went to college all the way on the east coast," he gave Charlie _A Look_, "So he didn't know you were going through your gay episode during that time."

"That, and you couldn't expect him to steal you from your girlfriend during high," Julie reasoned. "Ugh, _high school_," she rolled her eyes, grimacing. "Acne, hormones, horrible lunches, adding gay terror throughout the school would have made it worse."

Julie placed her barbell down. She dusted off her hands, smiling as she looked straightly at him. "We all went our separate ways. You ignored Adam despite the fact that he attempted to contact you pretty often during college."

Charlie groaned, leaning back on his chair.

"I-I had issues."

"Bro, you left him to the wayside," Fulton stated. "Hell, he even contacted me to check on you."

Charlie blushed, he'd never heard of this before until now.

"I would've accepted him," Charlie stated matter-of-factly, attempting to change the direction of the conversation, "We've been friends since we childhood!"

"Could you really have accepted the fact that he was gay?" Julie questioned. "It's a pretty big thing, especially when you're in a locker room changing in front of one another."

"Or the fact that he had the hots for you?" Portman piped up causing another session of blushing on Charlie's part while Julie cooed and Goldberg made kissing faces and noises on his behalf.

Charlie lowered his head downward, gently picking at the graded papers stacked neatly by his laptop. True, he hadn't figured himself to prefer men to women until he reached college, free from the social stigmas and watchful eye of the alumni association, b-but.

Charlie bit his lip.

He thought at least Adam would have told him he was gay instead of hiding it from him.

"We were…teammates."

That meant a lot.

And everyone in the video chat knew it.

Despite the fact that yes, during college, the former members of the Ducks eventually lessened communication, but they always, always, knew one another would have their back.

"Just be yourself, bro." Fulton said, finally breaking the silent. He smirked, "If that doesn't work, just lob one on him and run away before he can ram you in the head with his NHL regulation hockey stick!"

Portman's head popped up on the side beside Fulton. He winked, "Or you can date me! I'm easy!"

"Charlie, don't listen to him," Fulton pushed the other away. He rolled his eyes, "Trust me, as his roommate, the dude's a manwhore."

"Say that to my face!"

"Manwhore!"

The productivity level of the video conversation was at a minimal but the laughter that ensued, the good kind that he felt all the way down his belly, almost to the point that he couldn't breath; it'd been a long time since he felt that.

* * *

><p><strong>SS<strong>: I'm gonna get Mighty Ducks out of my system. I will. Still, comments and criticism is loved. I hope I managed to capture the character's voices well.


	2. if it isn't you, then anybody will do

**Hi Again, I Want You**

Chapter Two: **if it isn't you, then anybody will do**

...

"The appetizers better be pretty amazing, man."

Charlie tugged nervously on his tie, his fingers fumbling against his cufflinks.

"You look fine," Adam reassured. They were in the foyer, coats already given to the coat check, and yards away from the main gathering of people.

Charlie glanced up at him, a smart remark on the tip of his tongue. However, when he looked up, he was at a loss for worlds. There was this _look_ on Adam's face that made Charlie stall. Meeting a few hours before the event, dressed and small talk at the forefront of his mind, keeping the nervousness in the pit of his stomach regarding eating and chatting in a room full of people eying him like he was a piece of meat, left Charlie little opportunity to just _look_ at Adam.

Now that he was given an opportunity to stare, he could not find the willpower to turn away. Adam was the same old Banksie, his features a little sharper, his jaw line more defined, and a bruise on his cheek –a little green in the middle tinged with a putrid shade of yellow- finally fading away, but…

His _eyes_ were- they were soft, and just…looking at him in a way that Charlie only dreamed of. He'd seen that look often throughout the years as a teacher on the faces of his teenagers in his classroom. That face, dreamy with a flush of pink on their cheeks, was more prevalent in the halls as they huddled together outside of their respective lockers. Their foreheads barely touching as the couple leaned toward one another, a smile on their faces as they gazed at one another.

Oh.

He _had_ seen that look.

On Adam's face.

Charlie mentally jolted.

It was right after graduation at Eden Hall.

Adam and Charlie had embraced amongst the cheering graduates. The Ducks around them were probably the loudest. He remembered looking at Adam and Adam smiling back at him. He had the same expression on his face. Charlie thought it was anticipation for the future after graduation. Adam opened his mouth, as if to say something before he abruptly clamped it shut. Simultaneously, Linda rounded the corner, hugging him from behind and suddenly Guy and Dwayne followed suit and started a group hug. Charlie hadn't noticed Adam moving away until he looked back up, but Adam was already on the other side of the mass crowd of Ducks, cornered by a hug-happy Luis and Fulton.

"You're Adam Banks, aren't you?"

An enthusiastic promoter broke the moment. Adam abruptly stepped away from Charlie, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he plastered a magazine-cover worthy smile on his face.

"Mingle time," he stated.

"Y-yeah," Charlie agreed, purposely bumping his shoulder into Adam's as they made their way into the main room, a promoter chatting a mile a minute beside Adam.

Adam shot him a grateful look as they were suddenly bombarded by a third of the people in the room, the promoter's voice a soft hum in comparison to the rest of the over exuberant crowd.

Half an hour later, several polite but nonetheless non-memorable conversations –minus the one with the mayor's aid and apparently, their mayor had an almost terrifying left hook from his boxing days- Charlie was ready to go.

Charlie didn't envy Adam as much as the other possibly did. He loved hockey, he loved the feeling of the ice underneath his skates, the freedom of it as he glided along the ice. Most of all, he loved the camaraderie.

He got that and more as a teacher.

That, and he didn't have to deal with corporate sponsors.

Although the alumni and parents of Eden Hall could possibly give these corporate dogs and reporters a run for their money at times.

The team's publicist and a potential sponsor cornered Adam and another teammate. Charlie sighed sympathetically.

He knew what it was like to paint a smile on one's face and basically lay yourself out to the sharks.

He was used to these fancy dinners and basically catering to the needs of the rich that may or may not sponsor various clubs or build wings for the library or science buildings for the following year. This was the same: swap out high strung parents with their rich kids or various alumni and replace it with politicians and corporate sponsors, and hey, Charlie was right at home. Minus the fact he usually had a few other teachers or coaches from other sports teams along with him to complain with.

The food was admittedly better.

"You okay?"

Adam appeared beside him, the smile, the one he reserved for reporters and whoever else was out there smarming it up, lessened until it was that small, sweet smile that Charlie usually saw when he was with the Ducks. Although that look in his eyes hadn't disappeared. It was carefully hidden, but that sense of warmth that leaked through onto the fringes of Adam's blue eyes couldn't be contained.

Charlie was pretty sure dragging everyone's favorite Minnesota born and bred hockey star into a nearby closet to make out and possibly confess his undying love for would be frowned upon.

"Bored, but if I can survive being checked by a nearly seven foot tall senior, then I'm sure I'll be fine," Charlie replied. He frowned lightly, his fingers instinctively inching toward Adam's hand. He'd seen the other move his wrist forward toward him several times during their mingling session. However, as if stung, he would pull his hand back and stuff it into his pant pocket. His hockey players, like Adam used to, were scholarship students and would often hide their injuries for fear of being benched, or worse, off the roster.

"Your wrist is acting up…?"

Adam immediately pulled away as if any touch from Charlie could possibly burn him.

"I-um…it's okay," Adam muttered, averting his eyes.

Well, ouch.

Fulton's idea of kissing and running away, minus the fact he would potentially lose his best friend in the process, was looking more and more appealing by the second.

"Thank you," Adam murmured suddenly, his fingers lingering across Charlie's shoulder, "For worrying."

Charlie smiled despite the fact all he wanted to do was pin Adam against the nearest wall and ask if there was a possibility of a future together.

"Anytime."

…

Charlie has this personal game where every time someone clucked in sympathy at the mention of his profession ("Oh, you're a teacher…"), he would take a swig of his drink.

He should've stuck with water.

To make matters worse, his eyes would not stop looking at Adam's mouth.

"Charlie, isn't that you?"

Crap.

A warm arm wrapped around his shoulder to steady his swaying body. Charlie blinked, looking up into vibrant green eyes that stared down at him with a friendly grin, also warm and familiar –pale in comparison to Adam's- and god, it felt good to be embraced by someone who liked him, really _liked_ him.

"Hey Drew," Charlie murmured, burying his face against the other's shirt. He smelled nice.

"Wow, win one national JV championship and you already get to hang out with the big dogs." Drew said jokingly as he moved them toward a more shadowy corner to afford them some privacy.

Charlie lightly shoulder bumped the other man on the sternum, "Shut up. You know I don't like these events."

Drew grinned, "Shame. You look good in a suit."

That compliment, once upon a time, would've had a blush the color of a tomato screaming down his cheeks and neck.

They dated their last year of college, him a senior and Drew a junior. He headed first into the minor leagues and Drew followed. Except, while Charlie enjoyed hockey, he knew he was better off teaching the skills to the younger generation. He went to graduate school for teaching while Drew stayed in the minor leagues. They both dated on and off until Charlie was offered a teaching position at Eden Hall and Drew went pro. The following year, it was announced that the JV coach was retiring and strong rumors that Charlie was topmost prospect for coach.

Three years of teaching and one coaching the new JV team and leading them to state championships, Charlie did well for himself.

It all worked out in the end.

It did not stop him from peering into his empty apartment and wonder.

Maybe.

"I'm here with a friend?" Charlie sighed, wrapping his arms around the other's waist mostly for support and further for comfort.

"Is that a question?" Laughter, warm like that first sip of hot chocolate on a cold Minnesota day, filled Charlie's senses. He shivered.

"I lost him…" His grip tightened on the other and wow, no more alcohol for Charlie. Mindy the hot new science teacher was right; alcohol was a depressant and playing the drinking game should be left to the teenagers and college students.

Charlie frowned in surprise when Drew fully wrapped his arms around him, pressing him against the wall behind him. His voice was warm against Charlie's ear, "You should forget about this place and come home with me."

* * *

><p><strong>SS<strong>: So, let me forewarn y'all that the rating will go up. I hope none of you are complaining! haha Still, I hope the progression of the story isn't too confusing of fast-paced. Review and tell me what you thought! I'm aiming for five reviews to make an even count of ten. -slightly OCD-


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